District 14
by CoolBeans1221
Summary: Fullmetal meets Hunger Games. KatnissXEdward.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I wanted to try out writing this new story. I'm not sure how long i can keep it up, i might run out of ideas, sadly. Please tell me how you like it 33 CoolBeans.

For the sake of this story, there is a fourteenth district. This district's main export or theme (like District 12's is coal/mining) is automail. They are one of the poorer districts, but better off than Districts 11 and 12. As far as the Games go, they aren't really a district where winning is a "great honor." While the workers in this district are usually strong and tough, they don't usually join the careers.

Here goes;

I woke up before dawn, my body covered in a layer of sweat which made me shiver. I pulled the thin sheet up to my chin and rolled over to look across the room at my little brother. Alphonse and I had been living with the Rockbell's since I was ten. Al is a year younger than me. My father died right after Al was born in a factory accident, and our mother got very sick a few years ago.

I'm sixteen. I live in the fourteenth District in a country called Panem. Every year there is a drawing. One boy and one girl is selected from every district to participate in a monstrous event called the Hunger Games. The object of this "game", is to be the last one standing. The twenty-six children, between the ages of 12 and 18 fight to the death. I'm deathly scared to be picked for the Games, and twice as scared for Al to be picked. Today is the Reaping.

Its one o'clock and Granny is putting the final touches on our best clothes, which are rarely worn. The lunch on the table is the nicest we've had in a while because today is supposed to be a celebration, but none of us can eat. In our household, there are three viable candidates for the Games; Winry, Alphonse and I. Winry and I are the same age, we've been friends basically since birth. Her parents are dead too, we live with her grandmother.

"Edward, try to smile." she says in her raspy voice, reaching up to touch my chin. Granny is a small lady, coming up to about my chest and I'm only five foot five. Winry and Al are both taller than I am and it pisses me off. I mean, I'm a year older than Al for Christ's sake!

"Granny, we should be going down to the square now." Winry says timidly. The Reaping is a horrible day for Winry. She had an older brother who died in the Games.

Granny nods and we all stand up. Granny doesn't usually leave the house anymore, so we know we'll be walking to the square alone.

The town square is where it all happens. The walk down there is silent. It's still silent as we reach the square and family members are hugging, or saying goodbye just in case. Winry and I go to stand with the sixteens while Al stays behind with his class. We have a ritual of not saying goodbye, but Winry grabs Al's hand and gives it a squeeze before we depart from him.

It feels like forever until the fancy man from the capitol with his odd accent stands up on stage with a huge fake smile on his face.

"Good afternoon District Fourteen!" he says into the microphone with a booming voice. "I'm here to select the lucky tributes for this year's Hunger games!" His smiling eyes pan over the crowd, and he winks at a nearby camera, which is recording our Reaping for all of Panem to see later.

There are two living former tributes who have won the Hunger Games, and they along with District 14's mayor are sitting on stage looking miserable behind the fancy man from the Capitol. I know that the living tribute's job is to train and mentor the new tributes. One of them, is very close to us, and gives our little family money sometimes, because he was Winry's brother's mentor, and he feels bad for not being a good enough mentor. We know that it wasn't his fault, but he feels that it is, and that's why he helps us out.

Winry takes a step closer to me and presses her arm against mine as the Capitol man finishes his speech and walks over to the giant glass balls filled with the names of the children in our district.

"Ladie's first!" he says in his booming accented voice, and shoves a meaty hand in the bowl. The fake smile never leaves his face as he reads out the poor child's name. "Maria Ross!" he says.

I know Maria Ross. She's an eighteen year old and i've seen her at school. She's a small girl with short dark hair and a mole under her left eye. My friend Brosch has always thought she was cute. I look around for Brosch, and see him a few feet away. He has his jaw set and is looking straight ahead as he watches her climb the steps to the stage. I know he planned to marry her one day. My stomach clenches as I think of how i would feel if Winry's name was called.

The fancy man claps Maria on the back, and she lets out a small sob. Even from here, I can see the tears running down her cheeks. She isn't cut out for the Games. It's sad but true, but she knows she won't survive.

Still smiling as brightly as ever, clearly ignoring the Maria's obvious terror, the man walks over to the bowl of boys names. I glance over at Winry and she's trying not to cry, I know it.

I'm still looking at Winry when the man calls out a name, and Winry slaps her hand over her mouth, but i can still hear the sob. The tears start leaking from her eyes. She turns and looks at me. I look up at the stage and notice people are looking at Winry. No, not Winry. Me.

A/N: I want to stop here for now, yes i know it's a short chapter, but it is the first so get over it.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I hope in this chappie, Ed will get over his emotions and get back into character. Love you guys 3

And Sorry for the previously bunched up chapter, no matter how many times i edited it it wouldn't undo it so i had to re upload.

I was in shock. I was going to the Hunger Games. How could this have happened? Of all the candidates, I was chosen. I swallowed.

"Brother!" i heard a voice yell from behind me, and turned around to have Alphonse smash himself into me. "I'm sorry brother." I put my automail arm around his shoulders, saying nothing. Of course he had absolutely no reason to apologize to me, but I couldn't open my mouth to yell at him as I otherwise would have.

I let go of Alphonse and headed toward the stage. It looked large and scary now. I looked back to see Alphonse and Winry holding hands, trying to keep straight faces. Reality rushed in and smacked me in the face, and I realized i needed to be brave about this. I had to stand up tall and strong and hold my demeanor in front of all of District 14, no, all of Panem.

I marched up the steps, chin high, and flicked my chin-length golden bangs out of my face. My braid swung back and forth on my back as I walked across the stage to my place next to the fancy man.

I looked straight at Alphonse and Winry while the fancy Capitol man finished his speech and all of District 14 clapped. I knew none of them wanted to clap, but it was "encouraged" by the Peacekeepers throughout the District.

"Okay, son now you and Miss Ross are going to walk right in there and wait, kay?" The fancy man flashed us his smile and shoved us toward two Peacekeepers. The Peacekeepers led us into the Town Hall, to parts we hadn't visited on school trips, rooms reserved for the selected tributes to the Hunger Games.

One Peacekeeper pushed me into a room full of furniture that was way to fancy for me. I sat down on a plush couch and worried the material through my fingers. Thoughts rushed through my head.

I needed to win this. I needed to come home for Al. For Granny and Winry too. I needed a strategy. As I was reliving previous Games in my head, trying to come up with ways to beat the other kids, the door opened and in walked Al and Winry. I knew they were the only ones who would come to see me before I left. I didn't have many friends, probably because of my fierce temper and no nonsense attitude.

Winry and Al ran over to me and hugged me on the couch, they were both crying. I bit my bottom lip and pounded both of them on the back.

"It's okay guys," I said my voice surprisingly steady. "I'm gunna come home. It's okay." This happened for a few more minutes, and I couldn't think of anything else to say. A Peacekeeper came in to escort them out. "I love you guys!" I said and they whispered it back. "I love you!" I shouted after them as the door was shut.

I pressed my palms into my eyes and sat on one of the lustrous couches. I don't know how long I sat there for, but eventually, another Peacekeeper, different than the one escorting Alphonse and Winry, came in to tell me that it was time to leave.

This kid couldn't have been more than twenty-five, and he looked at me with the slightest trace of pity. I knew I must have looked a mess, but I sniffed, held my chin up, and shook my bangs out of my face. I didn't need his damn pity.

The walk to the train was silent and solemn but for the two reporters, and the Fancy Man, who I heard call himself Finn Callahan. Maria Ross has a red splotchy face and she sniffles the entire walk to the train.

The train is a huge locomotive, nothing like what transports the supplies in and out of District 14. I can tell it's a luxurious vehicle even from the outside, something definitely from the Capitol, which makes me despise it at first sight.

When we get on the train, the Fancy Man, Mr. Callahan, who instructs us just to call him Callahan, tells us that our names are on posters hanging outside our assigned rooms, and points down the hall in the direction he wants us to go.

Maria walks behind me. I can hear her labored breathing, and I know she's trying to calm down. I have the urge to turn around and tell her something comforting, but then I remember that we're supposed to kill each other soon, and I walk faster toward my room.

When I open the door, I see that the room is just as I suspected it to be. Pristine, high tech, and trying too hard to look comfortable. I knew it was going to be anything but.

I walked over to the bed and sat down hard. I let my breath pass through my lips making me sound like a horse.

I think I need to come up with a strategy. Something to help me win. Because right now, winning is the only thing that matters. I think I might have some sort of advantage, seeing as I can do alchemy. There are very few Citizens of Panem who still practice the art, and my father, before he died, wrote down everything he knew about it. Alphonse and I had studied his books for years. I was pretty confident in my abilities.

Seeing as how the District Fourteen is the only district who still participate in alchemy, I'll be the only one in the arena who can use it. Except maybe for Maria Ross, and I doubt she can do it.

I looked at the wall across from me and gave it a smirk. This might hold out to my advantage after all.

My smirk turns into a grimace and I rub my leg where the port of my automail joins my skin. I think it might rain soon. Thats really the only time my ports act up.

There's a knock on the door that rattles my thoughts.

"Edward?" asks the booming voice of Callahan. "Time for dinner, son!" groaning, I stand and make my way to the door. In the hallway, I see green and brown rushing past the windows, the sunlight quickly diminishing.

Callahan, I still half think of him as the Fancy Man, leads the way down the hall toward the dining cart. When we arrive, Maria Ross and the two surviving tributes to mentor us are already at the table. The tributes are both older, one looking about thirty and the other looking around fifty, both males.

Of course I recognize both from the years of Reap when they sit on stage, but I don't know much about either of them. The younger one I'm sure is named Mustang. Roy Mustang. But i can't recall the other's name. Maybe it's something like Gerald.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry, I had to re-upload AGAIN. When I upload from my Mac it always groups it into one huge paragraph, sorry guys. Thanks for your reviews letting me know something was wrong. 33 **

Waitors walked throughout the car, around the tables, in and out, never saying a word. They served huge dishes of rich delicious food. I was always eating at home, Granny thought I could eat an entire cow some days, and today was no different. I was helping myself to fourths of some sweet orange soup with purple fruits in it when Callahan cleared his throat. We all looked up at him, and only I continued eating, holding my face close to the soup bowl and shoveling it in while training my eyes on Callahan.

"Kids, these are your trainers, Misters Roy Mustang and Basque Grand,"

I knew his name started with a G.

"And they will be your mentors. Getting straight to business, would you two like to be taught together or separately?"

I wiped my chin on the edge of the sleeve to my red coat. Was this even an option? Obviously separately. But then again, if we trained together I would know all her strategy's and getting rid of her would be an easy feat. I decided I was okay with either way quite quickly, and being one to speak my mind loudly and clearly often, I immediately said,

"Together!"

And at the exact same time, Maria quite more quietly than I, said the same thing. I looked at her, right in the eyes, and tried to determine if she was having the same thoughts as me.

Maybe she was pulling a trick. Maybe her crying weak outer appearance was a trick. A clever rouse to trick me and the other tributes into thinking she was weak. There were people who won that way, you know.

"Well, that's that!" said Callahan chuckling and wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. He smiled and leaned back in his chair looking pleased like he had solved some huge debate on his own.

I had half a mind, probably more, to say something about his smugness, but thought it smarter to keep my thoughts to myself. The younger mentor, Mustang, cleared his throat and began to speak in an arrogant voice that immediately made me dislike him.

"I think that even though you wish to be trained together, you two should each be technically "assigned" to one of us." He gestured to himself and Grand.

I nodded. I just didn't want him. I much would have rather had Grand, but he spoke up in a gravelly voice that made him sound twenty years to his superior.

"Dibs on the girl." I didn't really think it was fair to call 'dibs' and I opened my mouth to say so when Grand said "You can have the pipsqueak."

I immediately stood up and fixed my eyes on Grand in a death glare which he took serenely.

"Alright, listen here grandpa! NOBODY CALLS ME SHORT! I'LL RIP THAT UGLY MUSTACHE OF YOURS RIGHT OUT OF YOUR HEAD!" I held my fist close to his face.

"I always get the troublemakers, huh?" Mustang muttered smirking. I sat back down in my chair. Maria looked half scared and half amused, like I was putting on some kind of show. If they only knew...

"I think we should discuss your strengths." said Grand. "Young lady, what are you good at?"

"Well Sir," her voice cracked, "I'm strong for a girl. And I'm a fast runner."

"How fast?" asks Mustang

"Fast enough to win every race I've done since primary school, sir. Even some against boys." She tried to look a little proud of herself I can tell. Grand and Mustang both nodded silently.

"Have you any experience with weapons?" Mustang asked. She sadly shook her head no.

"What about you, hothead? What can you do?" I thought about it for a second. Not about what I could do, but about what I should tell them I could do. I could save my alchemic abilities and automail for the arena, or I could tell them. I guessed that telling them might get me some pointers, but then again, someone might let my advantages slip, and I wanted them to be as secret as possible.

"My younger brother and I spar almost every day." I said finally. "I do all the heavy lifting at home, I know a lot about automail-" "Who doesn't?" whispered Grand, "and I have some."

As common as it is around town, not many people are seen with the metal limbs, and those who are usually proudly show it off. The fact that I had automail and hid it was probably quite surprising to them. Almost everyone in the room's eyebrows reached for their hairlines.

"May we see?" asked Grand. I didn't like showing off my automail, but for the sake of my life, I stood up and removed my red coat and long sleeved black shirt. I turned to my left and held out my right arm over the table, wiggling my fingers.

"Wow" whispered Maria. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," I said, rubbing the back of my head, "Some might say that. Winry's a great mechanic."

"Is she your girlfriend?" Mustang spoke up. I can feel my face flush red.

"Hell no! Are you serious? She's like my sister!"

"No need to be defensive." Mustang held up glove clad hands.

I stuck my chin up. "My leg's automail too, from here down." I rubbed the port on my left leg. "But I'm not taking off my pants." Leather pants and boots were hard to get off, not to mention the fact that I barely knew these people.

"Anything else we should know?" Mustang asked

I smiled, knowing that I'd blow their minds. I held up my gloved thumb, and pointed it at myself. "I'm an alchemist!"

Mustang smirked. "Prove it." This bastard was getting on my nerves. I gritted my teeth. I clapped my hands, there was a flash of blue light, and I set my left hand on my right forearm. When I moved my hand away, there was a blade protruding off my automail arm, all the way out past covering my hand.

"So the shrimp does know alchemy." says Mustang.

"Thats going to get you such an advantage!" Maria whispered staring at my arm. I recognized awe in her voice and maybe hint of jealousy.

"Edward, don't let any of the other tributes know. That's something you keep to yourself. Maybe you can show it off on your individual training day, but before that, no one outside of this room knows." Mustang made eye contact with each of the members at the table. We nodded.

"Tomorrow will be a day for teaching. You will learn how to act in front of crowds, not just crowds but Capitol crowds." The Capitol was always suckers for drama. "You will learn tactics for your time in the arena, and you will also learn how to impress the Gamemakers."

All helpful tips, most that I'd never admit outloud, although I wouldn't really have to, that I lacked skill in.

Grand stood and stretched. "I'm finished." he said. "You two should turn in as early as possible." He pointed at us. "You'll need your rest." we both nodded.

I shoved a bite or two from every plate in front of me into my mouth and then brushed off my hands, standing.

"G'night." I said, mouth full, and left Mustang and Maria at the table.

I sat on the fancy bed and stared at the ceiling. I lolled my head to the side and saw the door to my own personal bathroom. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom, planning on taking a cold shower like always, but as I stepped into the metal tub, the pad of dials and buttons forced my into remembering this was The Capitol and the Capitol doesn't do fancy half-assed.

I turned on the water and selected bath. The water began to pour out of a nozzle near my shins. My eyes widened at its heat, warm baths were rare, and this was a delicacy. Then I pressed bubbles, and jets and fizz, because those looked like the oddest options. Soap poured from a hole in the bath nozzle, jets pulsed water from the sides of the tub, foaming giant bubbles immediately and then my foot tickled as something in the water fizzed.

I sat down and sighed. Pain in my ports diminished quickly, the bath fixed that right up. I let my hair out of its braid and ran my fingers through it, letting it float on top of the water.

I held my breath and sank into the water, feeling like if one moment were to last forever, this would be one of my top choices.

About an hour later, when the fingers on my left hand looked like they couldn't get any prunier, I stood from the bath, wrapped a towel around myself, and watched as the capitol bath cleaned itself.

Then I walked into the main cabin. There were clothes sitting on the bed, mine clean and folded nicely beside them. I guessed that these were what I was supposed to sleep in, and put them on. They were silk, a huge rarity in District 14. I rubbed my hands up and down my legs.

I pulled the comforter down and crawled into the bed, the plush feathery feeling like nothing else, and was asleep in moments.


	4. Chapter 4

I was woken up by knocking on my door. I groaned and rolled over, the most warm and comfortable I'd been in bed in years.

They knocked again. "Come in!" I said, and sat up.

It Was Maria. "Time for breakfast. Callahan says we're almost at the Capitol." She stared at her feet, and I realized it was because I wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Alright." I said and stood. I stretched my arm and noticed hanging on the bathroom door, was an outfit, a black shirt and green pants, that matched Maria's. I told her I'd be right out and changed, tying my long blonde hair back into a ponytail, too lazy to put it into its regular braid.

I opened the door, and was surprised that Maria was waiting outside.

"I wanted to talk to you." She said.

"Alright..." I began walking slowly toward the dining cart.

"I think in the arena, we should be a team." She looked at me as she spoke, and I looked ahead.

"No." I told her flat out. She stopped walking.

"Why not? We'd have a higher chance of surviving!" she hurried to catch up to me.

"I said no. I don't want to get attatched to you any more than necessary. There can only be one winner, Maria, and I need it to be me." I knew that I sounded like a jerk, I had to. I needed her to understand that friendship wasn't going to help you win this game.

We entered the cart. Both mentors and Callahan were at the table already. maria and I sat and were served food. the entire meal, we were talked to about today's lessons. Neither of us said a word.

As soon as breakfast was over, we went and sat on plush couches to watch the reapings in all the other Districts. I participated in a small amount of talk, Maria still said nothing. I wondered what she was thinking. She refused to even look at me. I guess it was better for both of us though.

As I watched the other Reapings, I took mental note of the more threatening Tributes. District 12's Repaing was the most interesting of all. A young girl named Primrose, who was probably eleven, was picked for the girls, but another older girl, her name was Katniss, volunteered to take her place. They were probably sisters.

I was thinking that that was exactly what I'd do for Alphonse. I know Alphonse is almost as strong as I am, he beats me in sparring quite a lot, but I still couldn't live with the idea of him participating in the games.

How terrified Al and Winry must be...

I push the thought out of my mind. It doesn't matter how they feel. They can tell me when I get back home.

The windows in the car we're in suddenly go dark, and we all peer out.

"We'll be there any second now." Mustang says and leaves the room.

The dim is replaced by bright lights, and we rush to the window to see the Capitol and all its glory.

"Its even better than on TV" Maria whispers, the first thing she's said all morning.

I nod, and we stare at all the strangely dressed folk rushing by. We pull into the station.

-

We exit the train and are greeted by a group of people, who look almost nothing like real people, their hair skin clothes, all bright colors, none of them natural.

"Edward!" calls a woman with neon pink hair, skin dyed light blue, eyes the color of gold, and not the way mine are, like literal shining, sparkling gold. I look at Mustang, and he gestures for me to go with the woman, and the three other highly decorated people standing with her.

They take me to the Remake Center where they tell me to remove all of my clothes so they can "examine me from all angles." They blue woman, Reenie, gasps as I remove my shirt.

"I know you come from the automail district," she says in her high lispy voice, "but I didn't expect to see it on you!"

I smiled inwardly, and removed my pants, for the moment reveling in the attention I got from these poor Capitol people. I doubt they had ever seen anyone with actual automail.

This time the entire group gasped, and huddled around me, twisting and turning me looking at me all over, touching my automail and pulling at my parts.

"Hey, hey! careful with the merchandise!" I hissed at one girl, whose name I think was Corin.

After a few more minutes of marveling at the automail, they took me to a bathing station where they scrubbed me down so hard I bet you I was pink all over. They combed my hair, the blow dried it, and they almost chopped it all off, but I threatened some lives.

Corin told me that it was necessary that I get some waxing, and I had no idea what she meant. Thirty minutes later, when there wasn't any hair on my body other than my scalp, I understood quite well.

It had been a good three hours, and according to them, I was hardly presentable now. My main stylist would be in in a moment they said.

They left me alone in the room, naked, and I examined myself in a mirror. I looked nice, clean, my hair in a tight braid down my back. I thought i looked too pretty. Almost like a girl. They had oiled my arm and leg. The automail shown in the light of the room, it almost glittered.

The door opened. I spun around, instinctively covering myself in front of the woman strutting toward me.

Her skin was dark, darker than choclate, she walked on golden heels, her legs seemed miles long. She wore a white dress, that was nearly transparent, and it blended in with her hair, which was just as white. Her lips were a pale pink, and her eyes darker than her skin. She was intimidating. I swallowed.

"Come here." Her voice reflected the Capitol accent, but it was deeper, smoother. I walked toward her. She inspected me and I inspected her back.

"You have two metal limbs." she said. I nodded. "We can use that to our advantage in the ceremonies."

Every year, there are opening ceremonies where each pair of tributes is put into costumes that reflect their district, and they ride around the city in chariots, the people of the Capitol staring and thinking about which tribute to sponsor.

The District 14's costumes always have the tributes wearing metal, or fake automail, or holding blowtorches. Sometimes the tributes are naked, which gets them a lot of attention.

The woman held out a long thin hand with nails filed to points an inch long. It was her right hand, so I shook it with my automail hand, and wondered if the skin was rough or soft.

"I am Nahley. It is a pleasure to be your stylist."

I nodded at her. "Pleasure to be your tribute, Ma'am."

She dropped my hand and walked toward the door. "Come, come. Bring your robe."  
>I grabbed the robe off of the table nearby and hurried to meet her long-legged pace.<p>

We ate lunch and she talked to me about her ideas for our costumes. She wanted to try to give Maria automail too, but then decided you wouldn't be able to tell mine was real.

Hours later, I stand in a chariot, next to Maria, in nothing but a pair of horride little shorts, the same color as my automail. Maria is wearing next to nothing also, in a matching pair of shorts and strip of fabric covering her chest. Her makeup was done beautifuly. Her eyes shimmered and so did her lips. I looked around at the other chariots. The female District 12 tribute was set on fire just as the doors opened.

A/N: I drew what I wanted their outfits to look like, you can see it here.

/r/rh1jed/5

Its kind of horrible, i did it in about 20 minutes. and I did Maria no justice, she's supposed to look beautiful.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm super upset that Mustang can't call Ed Fullmetal, so I'm taking a poll: those in favor of me finding a way to wriggle the nickname in, or those who think it doesn't matter. Review!**

No one could take their eyes off of them. Us tributes attempted to smile and look presentable, but compared to what we saw on the huge screen, which showed the District 12 chariot, we were nothing.

All cameras aimed at them, we got no attention. For the duration of the twenty minute ride, I stood silently my eyes flitting back and forth from the crowd to the chariot in front of me.

The crowds screamed the girl tribute's name, "Katniss! Katniss!" and I was jealous. The girl was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. Her face was aglow with the light from her flaming headdress. I glanced at Maria. She smiled, but the jealousy was plain on her face as well. We knew she was stealing the best sponsors by the second.

We pull into the City Circle. The president makes a speech and we all pretend to listen, but watch as the cameras stay mostly trained on District 12. Then the anthem plays and we are driven into the Training Center.

Maria and I get off our chariot and look over at Katniss. She talks to her male partner and then she kisses him on the cheek. I feel my face flush for no reason. I immediately get mad at myself; there's no reason to show emotion. What's wrong with me? I stomped away. Since I didn't have any clue where I was going, I leaned against a wall and waited for someone to tell me what to do.

Reenie and Corin approached me. "You were great!" Corin says running her fingers down my flesh arm. I shrugged. I knew she was just saying that. They began to relay everything that had happened, though I was there, in their twittering voices, as we walked to an elevator and rode up to the fourteenth floor. The prep team stepped out of the elevator. I sighed.

In my room, Mustang came and told me that he was "proud of how I did out there, but I need to shows more confidence." Back home, I was one of the most confident people I know! I just needed to show it in front of all those people.

The beginning of dinner that night was just clinking silverware and awkward small talk, which I didn't contribute to at all. Callahan cleared his throat.

"Edward, I talked to some people after the ceremony, and all they could talk about was how one of the tributes had metal limbs! Many of them had never actually seen them on people."

I snorted. The fact that anyone had noticed anything but that girl, Katniss, would have been a surprise, but that they had talked to Callahan about me was even funnier.

"Your first day of training starts in the morning. You'll want as much sleep as you can get tonight, you'll need your energy for tomorrow." He emphasized the importance by jabbing his fork in our direction every few words.

"We already talked about some of your strengths;" Mustang added in. "don't let them show too much your talents for the private training day."

I nodded. I had no idea what to expect from this training, but I was interested in seeing the talents that the other tributes had.

"Can I be excused?" Maria asked in a quiet voice.

"Hm? Oh, yes, go to sleep." Grande waved her away.

"Me too?" I asked. I wasn't done eating, but I didn't want to sit at the table anymore.

Mustang nodded. His smirk made me angry as I stood and shoved two more rolls in my mouth, put one in my pocket and grabbed a bowl full of a delicious caramel colored pudding on my way out.

I wasn't tired, and eve if i was I felt that I couldn't fall asleep for hours, so I took a walk. One door down the hall and around a few corners grabbed my interest. ROOF, it said.

I pushed it open with my shoulder and skipped up the stairs. As I opened the door at the top of the flight, the cool air rushed in and blew my bangs out of my face, bringing with it all the noises from the lively city below.

I shoved the door closed with my foot and walked around the dome in the center of the roof, past a garden with tons of wind chimes, and to a bench shrouded in shadows. I sat on the bench, rested my head against the railing, pulled my knees up to my chest, and closed my eyes. I took the roll out of my pocket and took a big bite out of it.

I suddenly felt really homesick. I thought about granny, and Winry, and Alphonse, and it nearly brought me to tears. Of all people. Me. We weren't bad off, I only had my name in there twelve times; we had only needed the tessera they offered for the poorer families one year. That was nothing compared to some kids. Winry used to be friends with a girl who at fifteen had her name in twenty two times. Her brother had just as many at the age of seventeen. They lived with ten people in their house, and they were the only two eligible for the Games.

As I tried to push my homesickness and self pity out of my mind, my ears pricked at the faint sound of voices. My eyes popped open. I definitely heard voices. I shrunk deeper into the shadows, not sure if I was going to be in trouble for being up here.

My head snapped to the left when I saw the figures of two teens come around the side of the dome and walk toward the garden. The tinkling masked their voices. I was thankful  
>I hadn't been seen, though I'm not sure why. Curious, and quite nosy, I tiptoed over to the garden and hid behind a tree about ten feet away from the two people, who I recognized as the District 12 tributes. The girl Katniss looked much different in just a plain black and khaki outfit. Her hair was pulled back, her face without makeup, and she still looked pretty. She was actually quite plain, nothing compared to the natural beauty Winry had...<p>

I shook my head wondering why I was thinking that way. I tuned in to their conversation. Katniss was in the middle of telling a story, I realised. She was talking about a hovercraft and some people who were really scared and got caught by it. Then the boy, Peeta I think, gave her his coat. Again, I felt that burning feeling in my stomach and I stood and walked away, sticking to the shadows so they wouldn't notice me.

I crept down the stairs and into my room. I removed my boots, but other than that fell asleep in my clothes.

I woke up to a knock on the door. I frowned, not opening my eyes, and threw the closest thing I could grab. It happened to be one of my boots, and it hit the door with a loud clunk.

Mustang pushed the door open and it slammed into the wall. "Throw something else, Elric, I dare you." He walked over to my bed, grabbed the sheets, and yanked.

I sat bolt upright. "What the hell do you think you're doing, huh? I was trying to sleep here and I really don't appreciate being bothered!"

"Get up! Its time for breakfast, we have talking to do, and there isn't any time for your bullshit!"

"I'll get up whenever I want!"

""You will if you don't want to eat, and if you feel like dying!"

"HOW-" I clenched my jaw. Mustang gave his smirk, which I decided I've hated since I laid eyes on him.

He took a step back and held his arm out toward the door. I glared at him and mumbled, "I'll be out in a minute."

After he left, I got dressed slowly, then rebraided my hair, and pulled my boots on before walking out to the dining room.

Everyone was seated at the table and had been waited on. My stomach rumbled at all the delicious capitol food smells. I filled my plate with a fruity looking breakfast casserole, and stuffed my mouth while trying to ignore Mustang and his freaking smirk. I had no idea how I was going to deal with him while I was in the middle of a fight for my life, and he was one of the main things keeping me alive.**  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6

Today was the first day of training. Immediately after breakfast, one of the ever-silent servants escorted us to the training center where the tributes from 1, 2, and 9 were standing around waiting for the doors to open. Within another half hour, the rest of the tributes showed up. The last to arrive were the newly infamous tributes of district twelve, wearing matching outfits. I snorted.

I stood alone. Maria was standing with a red-headed girl from District 5. Some lady gave a speech on what was going on, and then he opened the door.

We all rushed in, and the tributes immediately walked to the stations they felt they would be strongest in. I noticed Katniss and Peeta at the knot-tying station, void of any other tributes.

I decided that with my alchemic abilities, I would always be equipped with a weapon, so I wandered around and decided knife throwing might be a handy skill. I spent about an hour there, until my left arm was tired of the same motion over and over.

Then I moved to sparring with swords. I used my right hand since in the arena it would be my right arm that would be transmuted into a blade.

I realized that every few minutes, my attention flickered to the Girl on Fire.

We broke for lunch. The Careers, the tributes from 1, 2 and 4, all sat together. Katniss and Peeta sat together and all the other tributes either sat alone or in small groups.

I sat alone. After this, all of my days will be spent alone. Back home, I was hardly ever alone. I spent nearly all of my home time with Al, and Winry was in my class at school. I sighed, shoveling green toned bread into my mouth. What If I never went home? I'll starve or be killed. I'll never get to see any of the people I love ever again... I shook my head. I couldn't afford to think that way. I refuse to lose.

The bell rang signaling the end of lunch. We all went to new stations, many of us trying to learn new skills in a limited amount of time. I happened to be at the same station as the Dynamic Duo of 12 for a short time, before they moved on.

When training was over, I rode the elevator up to the fourteenth floor.

"Hey," Maria said looking over to me. I glanced sideways back at her. "Don't you think its kind of funny that buildings usually don't have a thirteenth floor because its unlucky, and we don't have one because there _is _no Thirteen?" She smiled. I snorted.

"Yeah, that's kind of ironic, huh?" I scratched the back of my neck.

We spent dinner gorging ourselves and recounting training to the mentors and Callahan. I spent most of dinner pissed because Mustang kept making sly comments like, "YOU threw better than that boy from 2?" and "Oh, I'm surprised you're tall enough to reach the heads of the training dummies." As soon as I could eat no more, which actually took a while- I can eat a ton- I stood and left without another word.

I slept surprisingly well that night, other than a nightmare in which I almost killed Al in an arena where the floor was made of clouds. When I awoke the next morning with Mustang at my door, I got up silently and not-unpleasantly, practically repeated the day before, this time, though eating lunch with Katniss and Peeta.

We talked about home. They held hands the whole meal. I was slightly miffed at this, for no reason I could come up with, but managed to keep the meal civil enough.

That night at dinner, Mustang asked me what I was going to do in the arena. I replied, "Oh, I don't know... maybe some... ballet... or leisurely painting." Mustang didn't take lightly to this, and proceeded to lecture me on how this score literally depended on my life, and how even at home I could never take anything seriously, and how it was going to cost me my life this time.

I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to scream and storm off. I wanted to go home. I wanted to sit on the edge of the lake with Al and Winry, like we used to, forever. But I couldn't. Not any of it. I just sat there with the backs of my eyes burning, because he was right.

The table was silent. I sighed and began to eat again. Maria spoke up, saying that she wanted to show the judges how fast she was, and her new knife throwing skills. Grande gave her a few pointers on how she could further impress them on that.

"I think," I said when the table had gone quiet again. "That I'm going to do some alchemy. Just a few small transmutations." Mustang nodded. "Like what?" I shrugged. "Maybe turn some plant life into water, or make a small weapon." _Nothing to my real potential. _I thought. My true potential would give me away as such a threat, the capitol might want to kill me themselves. They'd done that before.

"Just don't blow it, Fullmetal." Mustang said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

I raised an eyebrow. "Fullmetal?" I asked. He smirked. "I decided to give you a nickname. It will help with publicity."

I thought it over, mouthing it a couple times, then smiled. "I like it."

"Good." He said. "It's how you'll present yourself during the interviews. Speaking of which, we must get to making to two presentable."

Grande explained that during the interviews, we'd want an approach. Some would try to look menacing, others sexy, and some just stoic.

"But enough of that." Callahan said, "Time for bed. We'll talk more after your private sessions tomorrow."

In the morning everyone polished up on their talents, and then during lunch, they began to call the tributes for their sessions. I was second to last, right after Katniss. The room slowly dwindled down. The small dark girl from eleven was called, and then there were four. It was silent in the room, the Lovebirds had stopped their lovey chit-chatting. Peeta and she sat across the room from me, closer than Maria, and just close enough that I could make out their whispers. As Peeta was called he stood and I eavsdropped on their conversation.

"Remember what Haymitch said about being sure to throw the weights."

"Thanks. I will. You... shoot straight." I hadn't seen her shoot anything during training. She must have been hiding her talent like me.

Katniss nodded, and Peeta left. The room was silent from then on until the voice called for Katniss. I rested my forehead on the cool metal table for fifteen minutes, wondering what Katniss was shooting. Probably a bow and arrow. I bet she was great at it. I pictured a target with a quiver full of arrows directly in the center, piled exactly on top of one another.

Little did I know what was really going on in there. I never found out.

When fifteen minutes and more had passed by, I was beginning to wonder what was going on, when my name was called. I walked into the arena. The judges seemed angry and disgruntled.

I walked over to a station with plants. I chose a medium sized sapling and I set it in the center of a mat for sparring. Finding nothing to draw with- I used to use chalk before I learned the Truth- I went to the camouflage station and borrowed some paints. I held my white gloves between my teeth and drew a botany circle around my tree.

I clapped my hands together out of habit, but set them on the circle. After the blue flash of light, where the potted tree used to be, was the clay pot, (bigger now, and a different color, because I had used the soil to add to the clay so my water wouldn't be muddy) full of clear water, and a long wooden stick, fashioned into an intricate spear.

I could tell I had gained the judges' attention. It had been years since a tribute could use alchemy. 

I then picked up the spear, clapped, and turned it into a wooden block. I threw the wooden block into the air, grabbed the pot of water, and transmuted it into a bat, then swung it at the wooden block as it came down, and smashed it across the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys. Sorry it's been a while. And sorry this chappie isn't very long. I'm trying to stretch the story out as far as possible.**

**Message me guys. I need new friends. Mine decided they hate me and don't want to talk to me anymore :,)**

I wasn't quite sure where I was going with the whole bat thing, but I couldn't take it back now. I still had a little over five minutes left. Not sure what to do with my time, I grabbed a sword and began to spar with an imaginary person- in my head it was Alphonse. I performed some of my favorite moves; an aerial maneuver, a spin/slash kick, a fake jab and juke... But I could tell that they had lost interest. I sighed.

I dropped the sword. I clapped my hands. Maybe I should just do a little more alchemy. That might get them to look at me some more. But even after creating a bunch of flower bouquets, a practice dummy identical to the ones in here, and a water fountain, complete with small cherub on top, I felt that I might not get more than a seven.

They told me I could go, so I did, leaving all my creations in the middle of the floor.

I took my time getting back to my room for some reason. I didn't want to sit inside anymore. I wanted to be back home with Winry and Al. I wanted to go lay on a hill and let the sun warm my automail. I wanted to go into town and see all the familiar faces, alight with smiles... But I couldn't. So when I arrived back in the sitting room on our floor, I was forced to tell them what went on. Maria told me how she did, and then there was nothing to do but wait until they announced scores. We ate, of course. I felt like they were fattening us up for slaughter, which they kind of we're, actually.

When it came time we sat around the television and watched as they went through the scores. a picture of the tribute, and their score. All the careers scored between and eight and a ten and the rest made fives and sixes, the small black girl scored a seven though and Callahan commented wondering what she could have done. Peeta scored and eight and then Katniss' score appeared under her picture. Eleven.

The highest of this year's scores, and who would have guessed anything less? Panem's new favorite teen scored best. I wonder if they'd done it on purpose, or if she really was magnificent enough for an eleven.

Whichever the case, she was now the biggest threat to everyone going into the arena, and the one sponsors would dive for first.

My face appeared on the television, and below it, a nine. Not bad. Not katniss, of course, but none of us were Katniss. Maria, the last of the tributes, scored a six. Her agility and kniving skills were average, but at least not bad.

We went to bed. I stared at my ceiling and wondered why the only thing I could think about was Katniss. The way she looked in her chariot. The way she looked during training. The endless possibilities of things she could have done to earn an eleven. It was nearly dawn when I gave up on sleep, and walked to the dining room. The silent waiters, always on duty, brought me out a huge breakfast warm with all sorts of Capitol foods.

I took my time eating, and the went and laid on one of the couches in the sitting room. Two or three hours later, everyone else had joined me, and they began to talk about preparing for interviews.

We decided that Maria's tactic for crowd-pleasing was going to be girly innocence. Callahan took her and her stylist and they began to help her act and look like the little puppet they wanted her to be.

Mustang stared at me, eyes narrow, fingers pressed together in front of his lips.

"What?" I finally barked at him.

"Hush, Fullmetal. I'm thinking." He continued to stare at me. I growled as my eye twitched. I threw my arm over my eyes in a childish way so I couldn't see him.

"Alright. You're hostile and angry. Full of angst... Well, who here isn't? Anyway, I'm thinking about confident. Loud. But we'll try to make you approachable. You'll act like you think you're a career, but you're a lone wolf. You work for you and you only."

I thought about how this was and wasn't me. It was almost spot on except for the fact that I was a lone wolf. It was always me and Al. Al and I. Always. But I guess since Al was here, I would be a lone wolf. There wasn't anyone I cared about enough to protect.

Except maybe Katniss.

I grimaced at my own thoughts. Brain, what are you doing to me? Katniss was a girl. A girl from another District. A girl in the games. Two weeks from now, one of us, or maybe both would be dead.

Feelings like this were the feelings of those who didn't survive. Those who couldn't survive.

"Fullmetal, did you hear me?" Mustang raised his voice.

I peeked over at him from under my flesh arm. "Uh huh. Yeah. Sounds good."

"Good." Said Mustang. He stood. "Now, let's go. Time for acting class."

We spent two hours walking, talking, replying to different questions in the same, arrogant tone. The same facial expressions. All bits and pieces of the big picture to try and make me loveable. Wanted.

When Mustang was sufficed with my behavior, Nahley and her team took me to my room to remake me. They bathed me about three times. I don't think I've ever been as clean as I have this week in my entire life.

Reenie talked to me about the party she had gone to the night before, and I tried to act interested, because she seemed like a nice enough girl, only pretty ditsy, but which of the Capitol citizens weren't?

Nahley, for one. As Reenie oiled my automail arm, Corin yanked on my hair, redoing it in three or four different styles, deciding each was too girly.

She sighed and looked over to Nahley, pouting. "Can we just cut his hair off?" she whined.

"No!" I protested. Nahley chuckled, but shook her head.

"Just put it back, up high, and leave his bangs down. So he looks like himself, with a slight adjustment."

Corin sighed, but did as she was told, combing back my hair.

Nahley took me into a separate room. She put me on a small pedestal and walked around me. She unzipped a few outfit bags hanging from a rack near the wall.

"So, I was thinking," she said aloud, but I had the feeling she was more thinking to herself than talking to me. "that we could put you in a bowtie and a white tux shirt, but cut off the sleeves, so we can see your automail."

She turned to me. "Yes?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." I nodded. She clapped her hands. "Let's get you ready."

The rest of the team came in and dressed me. It was weird how all I had to do was stand there, and lift a few limbs. I kind of hated how pampered and lazy it made me feel.

After I was all finished, I looked into a mirror. I hardly looked like me. I looked about five years older, and I was wearing make-up. My arms looked huge and muscely. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but I didn't like it. I felt so... Capitol.


End file.
